Story of the Eye
by whitetyger123
Summary: A story written for Hakudoshi-chan who was our 200th reviewer for All the Things I Hate About You. The request was FRUK, with England wearing lingerie. RP written by me and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture, rated M for yaoi.


We do not own Story of the Eye! If you are curious what it is about, just ask.

* * *

_To avoid the bother of a police investigation, we instantly took off for Spain..._ Francis read, engrossed in every French word that jumped off the page. He had read the book dozens of times, of course, but each time was better than the last. He had even read it in English, just to see if the translation added a new hight to the pleasure. It didn't, of course, but one always tries.

"Can't you do anything remotely helpful frog?" Arthur asked, interrupting his book. "We are having a meeting for a reason after all, and I'd like if you actually participated." Since it was just the two of them, it made the most sense. Even if they had gone over the bulk of the material they had. England just didn't want Francis to be enjoying anything if he was bored.

Sighing, France looked up. "But _mon cheri_, are you not glad I am reading? You always seem so caught up in one book or another, and tell everyone they should do the same." He had insisted they do this at his house, because their last meeting had been at England's, and he had been forced to eat a ball of burnt dough he said was a 'scone'.

"Yes, if they aren't supposed to be talking about English-French relations. What are you reading anyways?" England frowned as he leaned forward. "L'histoire d'oeil?" Arthur commented with a snort. "How did I know it would be some sort of French garbage?"

Giving a stiff smile, France closed the book, keeping his finger on the page. "Story of the Eye. I have an English version, if you would like." Maybe then he would get off his case and let him read in peace.

"Sure, why not. Then I'll know just what filth you read in your not quite spare time." Arthur held out his hand for the book. When it was placed gently in it, he tore it close to his chest in defiance before starting to read it. "Is this some sort of badly written smut? Really Francis, I would expect better from you."

Going back to his own book, France smiled. "Badly written smut? I dare say this is a famous French novel that you hold in your hands." And he was probably only at the milk saucer part. "Don't worry, it starts a little slow but picks up soon." Very soon, actually. He loved the pace of this book so much.

Narrowing his eyes as he continued, England shook his head. "Just how can _this_ become famous? What makes it even vaguely attractive? And... Bloody hell..." Just why were they using eggs in such a manner? And why did one of Francis' perverted citizens decide to write about it?

Laughing a little, France looked to see what part he was at. "I told you it moves quickly, _non_? Are you turned on yet?" And even this would get more interesting the farther on in the book England read. That was what was so great about it! Well, and the fact that the whole thing was filled with extremely perverted things.

"I am not _turned on_," Arthur spluttered, his face turning red as he looked back to France. "I'm just reading it to see just what twisted fantasies pass as normal. It gives me more material to prove you're the more perverted one." Really, he had fetishes, but not to the extreme the characters seemed to have with a variety of objects and... Bodily functions.

Leaning close, Francis let out a small breath skip over the heated skin of Arthur's neck. "But are you not also perverted? Because I think the bulge in your pants will grow with the next scene." He whispered, smiling at the shiver he saw go through England.

"A-Are you trying to insinuate something?" The Brit bristled, shifting away from the blond. "If you were to leave me alone, I would be able to see just what makes you so keen to make me read this." That and if he could ignore just how he was looking at him; the hungry stare at his vital regions being the most prominent.

"Just wait till you get to the party. It is a blast, as our American friend would say." France grinned, going back to his own book. A few more chapters and Arthur would be begging him to have sex. Or at least something sexual. Maybe he would get some ideas from the book.

Pausing, England blushed as he continued to read. Shifting in his seat, he grumbled. "Somehow I severely doubt that. This is already a waste of the printed word, I don't see how a party could make it better."

Waiting for him to get to the part, Francis' grin grew wider at the look in England's eyes. "Isn't it delightful?" He had been to a few parties like that himself, but they had never ended up with the police being called.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked away from the book. "It's not _delightful_." He argued, trying to not imagine himself in a situation such as the one in the book, with bodies everywhere and pleasure coming from all sides...

Glancing down, France leaned forward and tapped the bulge in Arthur's pants. "This here would disagree. It looks painful. Would you like help with that?" He would be only too happy to oblige of course.

Pulling away, he swallowed hard. "I don't need help... I just need to go to the loo..." England continued to blush, trying not to think how Francis knew everything from the book inside and out. He hadn't even gotten half way through so there was still more he hadn't read.

"Oh, don't be like that, _Angleterre_, it will be so much better if I help you." Well, not to say that he wouldn't be 'helped' as well. It would be a simple thing to turn it his way, to make Arthur like pudy in his hands, like he was the first time he had read the book.

"I already said I don't need your help!" The Brit exclaimed. Pushing the offending hand away, it still managed to brush his now painful erection, causing him to blush even more profusely. A light moan slipped past his lips at the feeling. Although they hated each other, what would be another quick shag between them after all the years of similar instances?

As soon as he heard that, France knew he had him right where he wanted him. "Come, be my Simone and I will be the protagonist." Of course, they wouldn't be doing anything with dead bodies or eggs. He doubted very much that England would go for that.

"If that was meant to turn me on." Arthur started before gasping as France grabbed his crotch and squeezed lightly. "Just don't tease me." He gave up, loosening his tie as he set the book down somewhere beside him.

"Of course, Simone." Francis gave a sly smile before leaning in and stealing a kiss. Even though they were usually enemies, he did love the taste of England's lips. It was almost a mint flavour, with his very own mixed in. Delicious.

The Briton reached for Francis' head to deepen their kiss. He was already ridiculously turned on from a badly translated book about vile things, yet he desperately searched for release. Tightening his fingers, he felt the silly locks beneath his fingers as their mouths duelled for control with teeth and tongues and lips.

Moving so that he was practically on top of the Englishman, Francis pushed the book away so it wouldn't get it the way. He gained dominance in the kiss for a few seconds, and he took that as an opportunity to delve under Arthur's cotton shirt, feeling smooth skin from the constant rain in his country.

Growling softly in his chest, England thrust his hips up against Francis' own. "Now that you know, stop dilly-dadiling! I said I didn't want to be teased!" It was embarrassing enough that he was this aroused by French literature.

Thinking, France paused. "You know, I have just the thing for this situation. I will be back. You may get undressed if you want, but don't finish yourself without me." Before he could answer, Francis got off and went into his room, searching frantically through his drawers. This would really make him like Simone.

Glaring at the retreating back, Arthur just stood up and quickly shucked off his sweater vest and started to undo his dress shirt. It wasn't until it slipped off his lithe body that France came back with a predatory grin on his full lips. "What do you have behind your back?"

"Just a little something I picked up in Paris." He said, showing the black lacy, strapy, silky lingerie. It would fit just perfectly, he figured, the bottom hem coming to just under England's _derrier_. Although it would probably show his cock, since it wasn't designed for those.

Eyeing the garments with distaste, he placed a hand on his hip. "I have a raging boner and you want me to put that on?" He hissed, extremely close to just jumping France. "Is this your own twisted fetish? Cross-dressing?" Well, Arthur had always wondered what it would feel like, feeling the silk against his smooth skin.

Going closer with it, France wouldn't let it down. "America has shown me pictures of you in an apron, and in a few it must have been sumer, because it looks like you have almost nothing on underneath. If I have such a fetish, it is because of _vous_, _mon lapin_."

Bristling, England made a mental note to murder the yank for not destroying the pictures as he said he did. "Fine. Just make sure you remember this is all your idea. I just want to shag." Grabbing the offensive clothing, he stalked off to Francis' bedroom to get changed into the cloth.

France would never understand him. He was standing there in only a pair of briefs, yet he wanted privacy to put on lingerie. But, as long as he was playing along, it was fine with him. Sitting on the comfy chair England had previously been sitting on, his eyes lit up when the figure came out of his room, the fabric moving delicately around his legs and obvious erection, the head just visible.

Holding down his blush, Arthur sauntered over to France and rested a hand on his hip. "So, now can we fuck?" He asked bluntly, shifting his weight awkwardly in the pair of heels he found sitting near the open closet. They had to have been brought by the same Parisian who was staring at him with bedroom eyes.

"Where did you learn to walk in heels so well, I wonder?" Francis asked, grinning as he lifted a hand, running a finger along the bottom of the silky dress. He did look fantastic like that, though...

Snorting, England smirked. "And here I thought you knew everything about everyone." Leaving it at that, Arthur lowered himself onto Francis' lap before grinding their crotches together. "Now let me cum without living out your strange fantasies."

Lifting his hips slightly, France grinned up at him. "You being here is already living out so many of them." His hands went down to his own zipper, undoing it so his erection wasn't so painful. And this way it would be easier to get to the main event.

England squeezed Francis' now obvious erection. "Seems like you're too perverted for your own good. Getting turned on by a man in heels and lingerie. Almost as bad as me wearing them." Sure he was against it in the first place, but now he just wanted to rock and bounce against the French prick below his barely clothed erection and hole.

"Will you undress me? According to you, I am much too perverted to do it myself." And his country wasn't even the one with the masterbat-a-thons! How was he the most perverted in the room? England had also been turned on by Story of the Eye, after all.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Arthur shook his head. "I'm getting blue balls. Why would I wait for you to be undressed if you want me to be dressed as well?" The warm sunlight filtered through the room, making it warmer and almost awkwardly bright. His hips were already gyrating almost subconsciously as his mouth opened in a small O of pleasure.

Sighing, Francis let his hand fall to his pants, taking his cock out of his underwear and rubbing it a few times. "Fine, then you prepare yourself. And I suppose we can use saliva, _non_?" Because he really didn't want to get up to find proper lube at this point.

Looking into France's eyes, Arthur brought his hand up to his face and slowly licked the palm. He continued to drag his tongue up and down the dry surface until it became slick with saliva; all while maintaining eye contact. Before Francis could say anything, he rubbed the hand against France's throbbing length, pushing the lingerie out of the way with his other hand.

Closing his eyes with a moan, Francis smiled. "Hurry up and stretch yourself, or I won't be able to hold back." The saliva made Arthur's hand glide easily over his sensitive skin, turning him on even more. It had been a while since they had done anything like this, after all.

"Or I could just hurry up." Seeing France look at him questioningly, he just held the cock in place before sitting down harshly on it. "Bloody hell." He moaned, gritting his teeth. It burned from the stretching, but it wasn't unbearable by any mean.

Hissing at the sudden feeling of tightness, Francis groaned. "What are you doing? Are you insane?" He asked, concerned at the look of pain in England's face. Did he want to be ripped open? No preparation at all, and only saliva as lubrication!

"About as insane as you are for wanting me to wear lingerie." He answered, wincing as he started to slowly grind down against the length inside him. How could England say that he liked the burning of being filled abruptly when he was trying to prove he wasn't a pervert?

Lifting up a hand, France lightly held Arthur's cheek. "Well, let us be insane together, then." Even though it felt like his cock was being squeezed off, it still felt incredibly pleasurable. England started moving, Francis' length being continually encased in hot writhing flesh.

Growling at the caring gesture, England just squeezed his eyes shut before speeding up his movements. With the lingerie on, it made it more difficult to move. Though it offered a bit of release from the light scratching against the wet tip of his prick. "You would say that, frog. After all, your citizen wrote that excuse for literature."

"It got you excited, _non_?" He said, laughing before bringing England's face closer so they could have a heated kiss.

Bringing his own hands up to France's face, Arthur savagely thrust his tongue into the others mouth. Meanwhile, his downward thrusts became faster as small grunts of pleasure left his lips.

Groaning at the pleasure, Francis thrust his hips up forcefully, hearing a loud moan for his efforts. Taking the dripping cock in hand, France stroked it lightly, not wanting him to cum so soon. Well, if Arthur seemed in danger of finishing, he could just hold the base...

Pushing with even more determination against his day-time lover -at least this day time- Arthur ran his hand down Francis' clothed chest. Fisting the fabric, England ripped the shirt open easily and immediately started to lick and kiss the smooth skin.

Enjoying that quick mouth on him, France entwined his fingers through the tangled blond hair, letting him move around. "Ah, you are so amazing, _mon amour_." Especially now that he was moving his behind even faster, rocking up and down on his cock.

"I'm not _your love_, nor will I ever be." He complained before moaning loudly. Arching his back against the warm air, England frowned at the light fabric surrounding him. It was just getting in the way, and he couldn't see why it would be sexy on a man or a woman. Still, he went back to teasing a dusky nipple with his tongue and lips.

Using his free hand, France gripped Arthur's ass so he could help him move up and down faster. It felt so blindingly good to be squeezed so tightly by those muscles that he wasn't completely sure how much longer he could last, but obviously he was the country of love, so he would make sure to let his bottom finish first.

Gritting his teeth, England concentrated on moving as fast as he could to get both of them off. As soon as he could get away, the better by now. Even if he was the one to read the book and wear the lingerie. "Y-You better be getting close." He hissed, feeling his own cock bounce from the thrusts.

"_Oui, mon cher_." Francis whispered, glad that he had said that. If they were to finish at the same time, it would be wondrously amazing, for them to simultaneously convulse in fits of ecstasy.

Leaning forward, Arthur growled against Francis' lips. "Good, because so am I." With his muscles clenching around France's prick, he tried to drive them over the hovering point of climax. Without meaning to, he suddenly imagined the first scene from the vile book before cumming embarrassingly hard over Francis' chest with a loud moan.

Releasing deep inside England, Francis grabbed him and held him close as they both rode out their orgasms. After a few seconds, Arthur lifted up, letting France fall out of him with a wet sound. "If we can have sex like that, why don't we do it more often?"

"Because unlike you, I don't find wearing things like this to be a comfortable experience. Not to mention that you're a perverted Frenchman." Arthur explained as he slipped off the other's lap. Immediately some cum slid down his thighs, making him wince. "Well I better let you be. After all, we can't salvage this meeting now."

"On the contrary, I think this meeting did it's purpose. It was to discus French-English relations, _non_?" And what better way than to have a physical demonstration?

Sneering, Arthur let it fall off his face as he thought. "I suppose. Still, I didn't wish for it to end with cum up my arse." Or with wearing woman's bedroom clothes, but that was implied. "Still, I do supposed we did what we hoped to do." Didn't most of their meetings end up with sex? England was going to have to rethink these through if it wasn't going to happen again.


End file.
